


It only takes five minutes

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, It’s really short, M/M, i needed to write this because I’m sad, it wasn’t meant to be Klance in the beginning but it just happened, okay maybe it’s not that short, pidge is really short too I guess lol, pidge is there for like one second
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24706024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The first thing that Keith wanted to do was slam the door directly in Lance’s face, because oh god, why is here. Has he come to laugh at me in person? But something in Lance’s gaze stopped him. It was a softness he’d never seen before, in the way that his eyebrows knit together, and the corner of his lips was turned up in a sad sort of smile that seemed to encompass exactly how Keith was feeling.“Hey,” he said, and it held such a degree of sadness that it just made Keith feel even more stupid than he already felt, somehow, because of course Lance wouldn’t laugh. He would never laugh, and how could Keith think that he possibly would. “Can I come in?”~~~~~~~~~~~Or, Keith ends up getting catfished on the internet and feels horrible about it, but luckily he has people who love him and are there to comfort him.
Relationships: Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 96





	It only takes five minutes

Keith wanted to cry. He swallowed thickly, his dry throat cracking under the pressure. Heavy rock music blared through his headphones and into his ears. He’d put them on hoping that they would numb everything out, but all it seemed to have succeeded in doing was make his head pound.

He looked past his fingers, his knuckles white from where he was clutching his phone tightly in his hand. He let out a tense breath, trying to unhook them and running an anxious gloved hand through his hair.

Keith was stupid.  _ God _ , he was stupid.

A few days ago he’d received an anonymous message in his inbox, and of course he had been suspicious of it. But the person had presented themselves so, so nicely.

He had looked it up; what are the signs that you’re being catfished? They had checked only one of those boxes.

They had copious amounts of social media, many reoccurring friends, stuck to their stories, had favorite places to go that were real, actual places (he looked them up), fears and dreams, and everything a real person would have. And they were nice, and talking with them made Keith so  _ very _ happy. He couldn’t even remember a time when he had been happier.

They talked six hours a day at least, every single day, and even when they weren’t talking, they were all that Keith ever thought about.

So when they had sent him a small, “I love you,” Keith had nearly thrown his phone across the room, because that small sentence made heat rise up in his face and his face flush. He’d stared at it until he had finally had the courage to send it back.

Keith had never seen a picture of them before. He didn’t think that he even cared what they looked like anymore.

But when he’d told Shiro, his brother had looked at him, his lips a hard line and his eyebrows drawn together in worry.

“Just make sure you FaceTime soon,” he had warned. “You don’t know who this person is.” That made Keith falter. Shiro was right. Sure, he knew a lot of things about them, but if that all was fake, then what did he really know?

His high had only lasted two days. On the third, he had asked to call them, and they had agreed. At first he couldn’t hear anything, only a soft static. Then, a soft voice came through, one that clearly didn’t belong to, well, them.

For one, it was feminine. And it sounded young; way too young. As if the person was thirteen or fourteen. Keith couldn’t understand anything that they were saying, but with the trill of the TV behind them, even though they had stated that they were supposed to be asleep, Keith knew enough.

He’d hung up immediately, horror working its way through his bones, because, oh god, they  _ knew _ where he lived and how the  _ fuck _ had he been tricked when he had checked so,  _ so _ many times to make sure that they were real, to the point where he had almost been one hundred percent  _ certain _ that they were.

After that, he couldn’t fall asleep. He couldn’t do anything because he couldn’t believe that he had been so  _ fucking stupid _ .

That night, he did something that he hadn’t done in as long as he could remember. He padded carefully across the hall, wrapping his blanket around himself as he stared blankly at the white door in front of him.

Slowly, he twisted the knob, feeling his muscles tense as the door let out a small creek and a crack of yellow light appeared.

Shiro had still been awake, his prosthetic fingers flicking through the pages of the book he was reading. Adam was buried under the covers by his side, but the small twitch under the blanket let Keith know that he had heard the door open.

“Shiro?” Keith had called out hesitantly. His voice had been surprisingly even, considering that he had never wanted to cry more in his entire life, but Keith had still winced at how high-pitched it was.

Shiro had looked up, fixing Keith with a confused look that made him feel like jelly.

“Can I—talk to you?” He had waved his hand over and hoped that Shiro would ignore the way his voice had cracked. He must have noticed, though, because he set his book down and pulled back the covers.

“Of course, buddy,” he replied, and his voice had been so warm and soft that it almost made Keith feel worse, because he had  _ warned _ him, and Keith hadn’t listened, and he wish he had so badly, but he thought that if he hadn’t said, “I love you,” back then they would have  _ hated _ him, because people hate other people when they don’t get what they want.

That had sat at the table, and Keith was vaguely reminded of the times when Shiro had first taken him in and he had had nightmares every single night. Shiro would sit him down just like this, get him a glass of water, and have Keith tell him about them. And Shiro had listened, eyebrows knitted together like he actually cared, and after some time, Keith started to believe that he did.

Some time after that, though, Keith had stopped coming to him when he had nightmares. He didn’t know why, he just had.

“So, what’s going on?” Shiro had asked, and Keith felt another wave of fear crash into him. What was Shiro going to think? Would he laugh? Say I told you so? He let out a breath.

“You...were right,” he had started. One of Shiro’s eyebrows rose on his forehead. “They were catfishing me.” He held his breath in waiting as Shiro had just stared at him.

“Oh,” was all he had said. Then, “How do you know?”

“They called me and yeah, they just weren’t who they said they were.” Then it started to bubble up, as if Keith was a delicate glass full of water and that water was starting to spill over the edge. “And I checked so many times and I even looked up how to spot a catfisher, like, ten times and all their information checked out, so they clearly lived where they said they did, which makes sense because they were so young and they were probably just doing something like that to get their friends to laugh.” It had taken a moment before Keith remembered that he had to breath.

Because something inside of him had twisted, as if his lungs had become some rotten banana peel, all brown and mushy. There was someone out there who was  _ laughing _ about his stupidity with their friends, making fun of him for believing such  _ stupid _ , simple, lies.

A sudden wave of nausea rolled through him. He was going to throw up. He licked his dry lips, and he could already taste his lunch coming up.

“What do you need?” Shiro asked, and for a second Keith had been taken aback, because what  _ did _ he need?

“A hug,” he managed to croak out, and just like that, Shiro’s arms had wrapped around him, bringing him into his chest. For a moment, they just sat like that. Then two moments.

Shiro had breathed heavily, and when Keith had pulled back, he had looked up at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and said, “Stop breathing so heavily.”

“That was you,” Shiro had told him, but Keith had looked at him incredulously, not knowing whether or not he believed him.

Keith let out another sigh. His fingertips had grown slightly warm from the heat of his phone. He turned off the music, feeling a small drop of relief as the pounding in his head started to quell.

His hands were shaking as he picked up his tall glass of lemonade, and downed it in a series of gulps. It might not be alcoholic enough to completely wash his heartache away, but the zing in the back of his throat brought a sense of relief that he hadn’t known that he needed.

His phone pinged, and Keith hated how quickly he opened the message, because even if it  _ was _ them, which it couldn’t be, since he had blocked them immediately, he still wouldn’t be able to talk to them.

It was Pidge, the young girl who had skipped so many grades that she somehow ended up in one of his classes, and who he had somehow become friends with, even though both of them were so annoying that they had never had any friends before.

_ hey, you good? _

Keith bit his lip slightly before typing out a reply.

_ Yeah. I wasn’t that emotionally attached to them anyway so I don’t really care. _

That was a lie. A complete and utter lie. But if he didn’t say that, if he really said what he thought, he was afraid that he might break down and cry, and he really,  _ really _ did not want to do that.

_ expect me to make fun of you lol ;) _

_ I know you will. Wouldn’t expect any less lol _

_ but seriously, if you need someone to talk to, you know where to find me _

_ Thanks, Pidgeon _

_ oh, shut up _

Keith let out another breath, this time forcing a small smile on his face. He hated this,  _ hated _ this. He wished that he had never responded to that first text. He wished that he hadn’t been so stupid to actually think that they could have been  _ friends _ , much less  _ more _ than friends.

He was embarrassed, afraid,  _ horrified _ , because now everyone was going to have to find out, and they would laugh, he was sure. Well, maybe not Hunk or Shiro or Allura, but Pidge, and  _ definitely _ Lance. 

_ Oh god, Lance _ .

He was the person who Keith was most afraid to talk to now, because ever since they had met Lance had  _ hated _ him. Keith couldn’t say why, but Lance had made it abundantly clear that he did, ever since they met earlier that year. Well, apparently they had actually been in the same class for who knows how long, but Keith had never really noticed him before.

Recently, though, they had been becoming closer to each other. They hung out even when Pidge or Hunk couldn’t make it. But Keith did not doubt that Lance would laugh at him. Not one bit.

A knock sounded at the door, and Keith glanced up, startled. Shiro and Adam had gone out earlier, plus, they had their own set of keys, so he couldn’t be sure who it was.

He stood up, his stiff muscles popping as he made his way to the door. He hesitated, fingers wrapped around the knob. The knock came again, this time more urgent, and Keith brushed aside any last grievances he had and pulled it open.

His dark violet eyes met with clear blue ones.

The first thing that Keith wanted to do was slam the door directly in Lance’s face, because  _ oh god, why is here. Has he come to laugh at me in person? _ But something in Lance’s gaze stopped him. It was a softness he’d never seen before, in the way that his eyebrows knit together, and the corner of his lips was turned up in a sad sort of smile that seemed to encompass exactly how Keith was feeling.

“Hey,” he said, and it held such a degree of sadness that it just made Keith feel even more  _ stupid _ than he already felt, somehow, because  _ of course _ Lance wouldn’t laugh. He would never laugh, and how could Keith think that he possibly would. “Can I come in?”

Almost automically, Keith stood back and opened the door wider so that Lance could slip through, hands clasped together anxiously.

Lance opened his mouth as if to speak, but then closed it again, and the hesitance in the way he flicked his gaze away sent a small wave of impatience through Keith.

“What is it?” He asked, then winced as it came out harsher and snappier than he meant it to be.

“Um…Are you okay?.....I’m sorry….” At this point, a red hot anger started to seep into Keith’s skin, because,  _ was _ Lance sorry? What was he even sorry  _ for _ ? 

And Keith welcomed that feeling, because even though he knew that Lance didn’t deserve it, that he had come all the way to his house, just to see if he was alright, it was better than the icky, nauseous feeling that had swept through him the night before. Better than not being able to breathe because your lungs have just become so  _ gross _ . Better than being tricked by some random kid looking for a laugh because you were  _ such _ a  _ fucking idiot that you can’t tell the difference between a little kid texting and a fucking adult _ .

He wanted to be angry, because it was  _ something _ else.  _ Something _ to numb the pain, and the fear, and yeah, it was uncalled for, but he was  _ fucking catfished _ , and he thinks that he deserves to be a little bit angry.

Lance shifted uncomfortably, and Keith realized that he had probably been glaring at him since he had walked through the door.

“Listen, Keith,” he started, and Keith thought, ‘ _ no, I won’t listen, _ ’ even though he actually was. “I’ve...also been catfished before. It’s a common thing, and yeah, it sucks, like,  _ really _ badly. I  _ know _ it does.”

Just like that, Keith’s anger dissipated into nothing. “You’ve been catfished before?” Lance nodded, before letting out a small laugh.

“I mean, I flirt with every girl I meet; why not on the internet? Turns out, sometimes they’re not a girl, and sometimes they’re not even my age. So, yeah. I’ve even gotten really deep into one before, too.” He runs a hand through his bronze hair. “Turns out it’s pretty common.” He sent Keith a tilted smile that made a little bit of warmth well up in his chest.

“Oh.” And just like that, Keith felt a part of himself crumble and he collapsed on the couch, hands covering his face in hope that Lance wouldn’t be able to see him crying, even though he knew it was no use and he definitely could.

He stiffened as he felt a warm, tender, hand grace his back in slow circles, and realized that now Lance was right next to him, arm wrapped around his shoulder and close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body.

Before he could stop himself, Keith lurched forward and wrapped him in an embrace. For a second, Lance didn’t hug back, and Keith thought that maybe he made a mistake, not that he cared because he just really,  _ really _ needed to hug someone, and if that someone was Lance then it was fucking Lance.

Then, he felt arms wrap around him, and the gesture was so nice, because even though Lance hated him for years while Keith pretended like he didn’t exist, he still held him close and let Keith’s tears soak into the fabric of his favorite jacket.

“I’m sorry,” Keith croaked out when he felt like he was finally able to speak again. “I didn’t even know them for very long and I’m still—. It’s kind of stupid honestly.”

“It’s not stupid.” And he sounded so certain that Keith actually found himself believing him. “You know,” Lance breathed from right next to his ear. “I read that it only takes five minutes for someone to fall in love.”

Despite himself, Keith let out a choked laugh. “Really?” He asked. “That sounds even more stupid.”

“It kind of does, doesn’t it,” Lance laughed, and the sound made something inside of Keith flutter slightly.

Lance gave him one more squeeze and pulled back, still keeping an arm wrapped around him in case Keith needed a hug again.

“How many minutes  _ do _ you think it takes to fall in love?” Keith mumbled, even though he wasn’t the least bit curious, because he needed to talk about something that didn’t have anything to do with catfishers or the internet for at least  _ one goddamn minute _ .

“Hmm, I don’t really know,” Lance replied. “All the crushes I’ve ever had came on pretty quickly, so I guess maybe five minutes isn’t that off.” Keith let out a small snort at that.

“Somehow that makes a lot of sense coming from you,” he teased, and Lance hit him in the arm playfully with the hand that wasn’t on his shoulder.

“What about you?” He asked, and for some reason the question made Keith’s heart start to pound faster and his cheeks tint pink.

“I don’t know,” he mused. “I don’t even know if I’ve ever been in love before. I don’t even know if what I felt for  _ them _ was love.”

“Oh,” Lance said, and it sounded so small that Keith felt it like the pang of a hot knife. “That’s good; it means you’ll recover quickly.” He smiled slightly and looked him in the eyes, and for some reason Keith found himself unable to break away from his blue gaze.

“Yeah, I guess.” He paused for a moment, trying to get rid of the little shake that had embedded itself in his voice. “Thank you. It means a lot.”

“It’s no problem,” Lance smiled. “I know it might seem weird that I want to help because we’re always butting heads with each other, but I  _ do _ want to help. I mean,” he looked away. “I don’t really hate you. I don’t know if I ever  _ really _ hated you.”

“You didn’t?” Keith asked, and he couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice, because Lance had  _ really _ seemed like he hated him.

But, “No. I guess I was just...jealous of you?” Keith wanted to laugh as hard as he possibly could, because the thought that Lance could possibly be jealous of  _ him _ when Lance had  _ everything _ that he didn’t seemed like the most absurd and impossible thing he had ever heard.

“What could you possibly be jealous about?” Was what he said instead. “I’m angry all the time, people  _ hate _ me, I’m just so incredibly, furiously  _ stupid _ , I have barely any friends, and I push everyone away. I should be jealous of  _ you _ .”

“What…? That’s not—That’s not true—.” Keith fixed Lance with a blank look, eyebrow raised slightly. “You work really hard!” Determination wormed its way into his gaze. “You get good grades, you have natural talent, you’re really cute, and so much more! What is there  _ not _ to be jealous of?!”

Lance was looking anywhere but him now, a hint of pink dusting his bronze cheeks.

“Oh.” Was all Keith was able to respond with. He tried to brush it off with a small laugh, “How long have we been here?” He asked.

“About five minutes.” Lance’s eyes flicked over his face like he was studying it. Keith felt a small fire in his pale cheeks.

“Oh.” He suddenly became aware of the way that Lance’s arm was draped protectively across his back, and how close they were; close enough that he could count Lance’s eyelashes and feel his warm breath on his cheek. “Oh.”

Lance seemed to realize it too because he drew his arm back and ran it through his hair. “Anyway, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay. I know how tough it can be to recover from something like this.”

“Thanks.” To be truthful, the icky nauseated feeling that had settled in Kieth’s bones since the night before had been replaced by something much warmer. It was tentative, and unsure, and full of fear, and it was ready to flee at a moment’s notice, but it was there. “It means a lot.” He meant it.

Lance gave him the same tilted smile that made Keith’s heart flutter slightly. “It’s no problem,” he said. “You can always talk to me if you need help, or if you just need a shoulder to cry on.” He meant it, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so I wanted to write about catfishing, because it’s honestly horrible and it sucks, and somehow it turned into Klance fluff, so yeah. Stay safe on the internet, kitties. This was based on my own experiences, but unfortunately I didn’t have a Lance to comfort me.


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